The Fifty-Third Hunger Games
by ToTheEnds
Summary: The Fifty-Third Hunger Games are about to be in full swing, and there are many candidates available to win.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Dawn. The sun was rising slowly and surely off the horizon, and Barclay Beck could see every beautiful color. As the sun rose further into the sky, the true span on District 7 could be seen. Trees, which began at the very borders of the town, spread out for as far as the eye could see. With the gentle breeze that blew, Barclay could smell the pine, ash, cedar, and oak trees that grew in abundance.

"Bar!" a woman's voice shouted up from below him. When he looked down, he saw only a snippet of flaxen hair before it disappeared into his home. Barclay smiled to himself as he buttoned up the simple blue shirt that clung to his muscles snugly and made his way downstairs to the smell of fresh bread.

Before he had the chance to fully make it down the stairs, he was almost tackled back into the stairway.

The smell of pine filled his nose as small pieces of hair filled his mouth. "Jesus Tierney!" He spit out her hair and hugged her back gently. When they separated, he kissed her full on the lips, gently so as not to hurt her.

"You're awfully happy for such a gloomy day," He whispered, leading her to the kitchen, where his parents waited for him.

Tierney squeezed his hand. "I couldn't sleep."

"Good morning you two. Bright and chipper, I see." Barclay's father, Klaus Beck, mumbled from behind a cup of coffee.

Barclay's mother swatted him affectionately on the head. "Leave them be, Klaus. They're young and in love." She winked at them and went to wash her hands in the small sink. Ilse Beck was gentle and kind, one of the best furniture makers in the District.

"What time is it?" Barclay asked, grabbing a piece of dark bread and taking a massive bite.

His mother sat down, putting a small plate of fruit out on the round table. "Just past six. About three hours until the Reaping."

"How wonderful." Tierney mumbled with her mouth full of bread.

Barclay finished his bread and grabbed an apple, taking another huge bite. "We need to be there about eight then." Small spittle of apple content covers his lips.

He licks his lips and stands. "Let's go for a walk, Tierney." He held out his hand and she slipped her small pale one into his.

"Be aware of time!" his mother called as they left the house and turned left, heading for the trees.

"So, tell me the plan again, Tee." Barclay said as they approached the tree line.

She smiled up at him, her deep brown eyes shining. "Well, we're turning eighteen in three months. After we turn eighteen and finish schooling, we'll get married. A small wedding, not too big and not too expensive. Then you'll go into felling trees like your father and I'll work with your mother. Eventually, we'll have some children. Two at most, hopefully a boy and a girl." She finished and smiled at him once more.

Barclay kisses the top of her head and takes in her smell. "That sounds wonderful, dearest."

Barclay and Tierney had known each other since they were three and had been dating since they were eleven. When Barclay had met Tierney, he went home to his parents and told them he was going to marry her. They didn't believe him at first, but as they got older they could tell he meant it. When he proposed, the entire village they lived in threw them a party, pooling together their resources to make it memorable and happy. Even some Peace Keepers helped get the party better.

Barclay and Tierney got lost in each other, not realizing that it was almost time for the Reaping. They were laughing together before being interrupted by Kaelan Wagner, Barclay's closest childhood friend.

In between pants for breath, Kaelan told the two that it was almost time for the Reaping. Before they had a chance to reply, he sprinted off back towards the square, with Tierney and Barclay following closely. The three approached the square together and blended into the rest of the large crowd that lined up for signing in.

Before being separated by gender, Barclay and Tierney kissed each other firmly.

"I love you Tierney." Barclay declared fiercely.

She laughed and kissed him once again. "I'll see you soon my love."

They separated into their lines, waiting to get their blood taken and be put in alphabetical order. It was almost nine by the time everyone was situated and ready for the day to be over. Silence reigned over the crowd as they waited for the District 7 escort.

The clomping of heels could be heard on the concrete stage before a woman came onto the stage. She was dressed in a spaghetti strapped black dress, skin tight and short. Over the dress she had on a sheer black cover, which was interlayered with deep green flowers, further outlined with emeralds. The cover was more like a robe, tied in the front with two black velvet ties; the train of the cover was seven feet long, swirling behind her elegantly. Her sleeves were long as well, touching the ground, almost touching her six-inch green velvet heels. Her hair was piled onto her head, elegantly and high.

Her makeup was wild, with eyelashes a foot long. Heavy eyeliner and eyeshadow covered her eyes, the lids heavy and low. She had contacts in, making her eyes a deep velvet green, matching her dress. Her lips were painted into a heart, black lipstick outlined with green gemstones. Overall, her outfit was very Capitol and very matching.

Barclay looked around, searching for Kael. When the two friends made eye contact, Kael winked at Barclay and mimed a whistle before turning back to the stage.

Zahava Spiva tapped the mic three times before leaning in and inhaling.

"Happy Hunger Game, and, may the Odds be _ever_ in your favor."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The air was still as Zahava looked at the crowd through her eyelashes. When only half the crowd cheered, the pursed her lips but continued through the speech.

"Before we begin, I bring you a message from the Capitol!" She gestured wildly to the two big screens that hung off the town hall's structure. The screens flickered briefly before coming to life with President Snow's face.

The speech lasted a long time as bright music played behind the violent images of death, the Games, and a victor rising through smoke. When the video ended, all that was left was the Capitol seal, revolving in the center of blackness. The crowd returned its attention to Zahava.

"And now we will choose the Female Tribute." She smiled and sauntered over to the big wooden bowl on her left. After fishing in the bowl for what seemed like forever, she came out with a tiny slip of paper. Once more, she approached the microphone while unfurling the paper.

Clearing out her throat, she read the name. "Tierney Warley."

The air seemed to be sucked out of Barclay's lungs when he heard Tierney's name. No one spoke, but several people looked at Tierney as she, slowly and unsurely, walked to the stage, escorted by Peace Keepers.

Zahava looked at Tierney as she walked up the stage slowly. When she approached the mic, Zahava started to clap, but stopped when no one accompanied her. The air was silent and thick with tension. Tierney looked around and made eye contact with Barclay, who was panting from effort to not collapse.

"And now, for the Male Victor." Zahava walked over to the other wooden bowl on her right and quickly picked a name out. She wasted no time in coming back and reading the name off.

"Barclay Beck."

There were several gasps from the crowd when his name was read out, and he had to be shoved towards the stage to get him moving. Numbly, he made his way up to the stage and stood to Zahava's right. She smiled down at the crowd.

"Such pretty Tributes." She said, looking at the two. "Ladies and gentlemen, your Tributes for the Fifty-Third Annual Hunger Games!"

No one in the crowd cheered, and the two were led away to the main entrance of the town hall. After being jostled around, Barclay and Tierney were led away from each other and locked in separate rooms. Barclay's head was still swimming when his parents rushed into the room.

His mother was sobbing as she gripped him and kept whispering, "My baby, my baby." His father said nothing, but tears slipped out of his usually stoic eyes. Barclay said nothing to them, only hugging them. He knew he could not promise them anything, for his heart would break if he did.

"Do what you must." His father whispered into Barclay's ear before being escorted out of the room, practically carrying Barclay's mother out of the room with him. Barclay stood in the center of the bare room, trembling and panting. He couldn't believe what had just happened, the shock still shaking him to the core. When the door opened once more, and Kael rushed in, eyes wide.

"Barclay, man." Was all Kael could say. Barclay looked at him.

"What the hell am I going to do?" his voice trembled.

"I have no idea, Bar."

"My fiancée. My Tierney."

Kael shook his head. "I'm so sorry Bar. With any luck, it won't have to be either of you."

Before Barclay could say anything, the doors opened, and Kael was forced out, leaving Barclay alone once again.

Barclay waited for a little while longer, slowing his breathing and trying to quiet his mind. When the doors opened, Zahava waltzed in.

Her hand was extended. "Barclay, I'm Zahava, your escort for the Games. It's a pleasure to meet you." They shook hands and Zahava started to walk away, talking quickly.

"We'll take you to the train before you meet your mentors. There are three, all wonderful and very prepared. Now, I haven't seen any of the other Reapings yet, but yours' was very exciting. I'm excited to see what we can do together." She continued to keep chatting as they make their way down the stairs, approaching the front door. Tierney stood there, not looking at him.

"Now, I think you two should meet before going out there." Zahava stood there, looking between the two. Tierney slowly turned around and Barclay could see that her eyes were swollen from crying. Barclay said nothing, but slowly approached her and wrapped her in his arms. His huge frame dwarfed her petite one, but she wrapped her arms around him as best she could.

Zahava continued to look between them, mouth gaping. "Do you two...?" She pointed, and Barclay nodded.

"I can't do this." Tierney mumbled from Barclay's chest. Barclay pulled her out of his chest and looked at her.

"I will protect you."

She shook her head. "No."

"We'll talk about this alter. For now, we need to make the Capitol love us. We need to sell our love. That will keep you alive."

Before Tierney could respond, the doors opened, and they were blinded by the brightness. Zahava shoved them out the doors and the grabbed at each other's hands blindly.

The crowd cheered as they were led down the steps and towards the train terminal, where the silver bullet shone brightly. Before having a chance to wave goodbye to everyone on the terminal, they were shoved into the train and the door quickly hissed shut behind them.

"Wha-," Barclay could not seem to speak. The room was long and shiny. Several tables, wooden topped, were stacked with delicate sweets. Barclay's eyes caught a glimpse of chocolate covered strawberries overlaid with sprinkled gold and a chocolate cage as they skimmed over the many delicate treats.

"Oh my god." Tierney whispered. Her eyes skated over the intricate woodwork throughout the cabin. She saw wood trim, chairs, tables, flooring. Her eyes were everywhere, unsure of what to focus on.

Zahava slipped past them. "I take it you like it. I know you won't be here for a while but eat whatever you want. There are special chefs who will make whatever you'd like." She sat down at the table and reached for a bowl of candied apples, as small as her thumbnail.

She spoke with her mouth full. "You must try these candied apples."

"Please pass them." Tierney said, breaking away and taking a seat at the table with Zahava.

Barclay reluctantly joined them, sitting next to Tierney. He took a plate and began to fill it with meats, jellies, and a small black thing that tasted incredibly sweet and followed with a salty aftertaste.

The three continued to eat in silence when one of the doors opened and laughter could be heard. Three people sauntered into the room, one women and two men.

Lacee Loche won the Games six years ago, by sheer luck. She had no fighting skills, but she was very successful at scavenging. During the games, she stayed hidden during the day but came awake at night, leaving the trees and brush to descend upon her victims and kill them quickly. Lacee came into the room and immediately sat next to Zahava. She said nothing, but immediately started to eat.

The second person who came through the door was Alder Alnus, the Victor from the fortieth Games. He was only fifteen then, but his 38 years of age did not show. He looked 21 and knew it. His thick brown hair swirled elegantly around his elfish ears and his aqua eyes. The only stark difference he had was that three of his fingers on his right hand were missing, losses from his time in the arena. He nodded to the two Tributes as he took a seat.

The last addition to the car was an older man, stopped but still strong and independent. He made his way to the drink cart slowly, feeling around. However, Barclay and Tierney knew who he was.

Cleaves Greene won the Games the third year, when he was seventeen. He lost one eye at the Careers but was eventually able to come out as Victor in the end. He wobbled slowly to the table, his 57 years evident in his body.

"These," Zahava gestured to the three people. "Are your mentors. They will tell you what to do to survive and I suggest that you listen."

Alder leaned forward. "Now, you two are attractive. We can build off that for sure. And I'm sure you," He pointed to Barclay. "Have practical skills that will be good for you."

"I would love to mentor you, Tierney. You and I are just alike, I believe." Lacee l said quietly and Tierney nodded.

Cleaves said nothing as he sipped his drink and the rest of the audience ate quietly. No one talked for a while, all contemplating what the next few weeks would bring. Finally, Barclay broke the silence.

"What do we do? Tierney is my fiancée. I planned to marry her and now-" His voice cracked and he stopped speaking.

Cleaves spoke. "We do not sell love. Love will not win. For all the audience knows, you've never seen each other before. But be sure to make it known that you support her."

Barclay and Tierney looked at each other but said nothing.

"However, it is important to remember that one of you will die, if not both of you." Alder pipped in.

Tierney stood up. "I need to go sleep. Make this journey go faster." She left abruptly, not saying goodnight to anyone.

More time passed as the train continued to speed onward, to the Capitol. Eventually, Barclay stood up as well.

"I need to sleep too." He left the dining car, making his way to his bedroom. When he was able to find his bedroom, he closed the door and took in the luxury of the room.

A king sized bed took up most of the room, with windows making up the back wall and a TV on the other one. One door led to a bathroom, and another to a closet. He collapsed on the bed, not bothering to take his clothing off or wash his face. Before he could register it, he fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Bar, wake up." Someone was shaking Barclay and he woke up groggily.

"What?"

"We're almost to the Capitol." Tierney sat on the end of his bed, dressed in the same dress as the day before. She had braided her hair to keep it out of her eyes.

Barclay sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Already?"

Tierney studied him. "What are we doing?" She looked absolutely broken. Barclay said nothing, just wrapped her in a hug, pulling him into his lap. They sat that way for a while, until Zahava interrupted them.

"Ten minutes until the Capitol!" She sang out happily, dressed even more outrageously than before. She wore bright pink all over, with big puffy sleeves, long flowing pants that dragged on the floor and were see-through from the knee down, and knee high pink leather boots. Her hair was straightened down her back today, and her make up matched her outfit.

Barclay and Tierney looked at each other before she climbed out of Barclay's lap and left the room quietly. Standing up and stretching, Barclay closed the door and walked to the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and studied it in the mirror.

His deep green eyes were rimmed in red, but the flecks of grey could be seen still. His thick brown hair was the color of tree bark but curly on top. He had no doubt that that would change when they arrived. He could feel train slowing and quickly brushed his teeth before rushing to the dining car to greet the others.

"There are so many of them." Tierney breathed, standing at the window and studying the throngs of Capitol people who screamed outside the windows of the train. Barclay couldn't even process the colors and styles that they wore as they jumped up and down, screaming out District 7's Tribute's name.

"They are all," Alder pointed around with an apple in his hand. "Here for you. This is when the Games begin. This is where you will win. Not in the arena. You need their support to win and come out on top."

"Eat an apple, they said. It'll make you look even more like an asshole." Barclay mumbled under his breath. Tierney laughed when she heard their old inside joke.

The train slowed to a stop and the doors opened, the noise suddenly deafening.

"What do we do?" Barclay asked.

"Go out there. Introduce yourselves. Make your start." Lacee waltzed past them, elegant in a simple dress. Small scars could be seen on her pale legs but they did not seem to bother her.

Barclay and Tierney looked at each other tentatively before making their way to the doors and coming out to the throngs of people.

Everywhere the two looked people were screaming. The sight disgusted Tierney but make Barclay a little excited to enter the Games. He believed he had a fighting chance.

Tierney and Barclay were led down some steps and through a path or people into the train depot before being taken down several levels to a cold silver waiting room. Others were milling about, but the two were led away before they had a chance to study anyone.

At a fork in the cold hallway, Tierney and Barclay were separated. Barclay was led into an all-white room, with one table in the middle. He looked around and sat down uncertainty, waiting.

"Hello Barclay." A voice said before the door opened and revealed a tall woman. She strutted forward confidently and stuck out her hand. When Barclay shook it, it was ice cold.

"My name," she said, walking around the table, inspecting him. "Is Luna Valerey. I'll be your designer for this game."

"Your job is to make a good impression of me?" He asked.

She nodded. "I do the physical job. With you, that should not be hard at all. It is your job to impress them after that."

He said nothing, looking at her as she looked at him. She was pretty, for a Capitol woman.

"We'll have to clean you up. Shave, teeth, hair, and those eyebrows." She grabbed his chin and twisted his face around, looking closer. "I think we'll do wonders for you."

"Thank you?"

She smiled, showing sharp teeth. "You're welcome darling."

Behind her, the doors opened once more, and five people streamed in behind her, carrying several instruments. What looked like torture instruments to Barclay were the paintbrushes of the artists. They planned to clean him up and make him shiny, which the Capitol would like.

Hours of poking, prodding, and picking, Barclay felt cleaner than he ever had. His usually wild hair was slicked to the side, long on top and short on the sides. His usual stubble was gone, and his sharp jaw line was exposed. His eyebrows were shaped, smooth, and the rest of him smelled like pine, fresh and clean.

"You look amazing." Tierney said when they met up in the hallway. He whistled appreciatively. She looked even better, almost like a wood nymph. Barclay loved it.

Hand in hand they walked through the hall, making it to an elevator. Zahava pressed a button, bringing them to the 45th floor of the building they were in.

"Welcome home." The three stepped out of the elevator and into a lush apartment. It was huge, with three separate levels visible from the elevator door. Every surface was delicate, intermixed with wood. This was obviously the apartment of District Seven.

"Can we eat?" Tierney strolled in the apartment, looking around with excitement. On the second level, a banquet was set at an exquisite wood table. Alder, Lacee, and Cleves sat ready to eat, drinking a bright pink liquid. Barclay, Tierney, and Zahava joined them, each taking a sip of the liquid. Tierney shied away from it, the taste too much for her, but Barclay actually really liked it.

Barclay piled his plate high with chicken covered in a thick sauce, a pink meat that he was unsure of it but liked it nonetheless, a plethora of fruits, and the dark bread he knew was from District 7. Everyone ate in silence and Barclay drank three more glasses of the pink liquid, enjoying the feeling of warmth that spread throughout his body. He knew he was getting drunk but he enjoyed it.

"Maybe you should stop." Tierney said, watching as he filled a fifth glass.

"No."

"Don't get drunk, Bar."

He stuck his tongue out. "I want to."

Tierney said nothing, returning to her pasta bowl.

"Eat and drink a good amount while you're here." Cleves said, breaking off a piece of lamb leg. "You can't be sure of the resources you'll have in the arena."

That encouraged Barclay more and he eagerly ate two more plates while leaving room for dessert. After dinner was over, he stood up.

"I'm leaving to my room. Goodnight." He walked out of the dining area slowly and unsurely, the room spinning around his feet. It was a miracle that he made it to his room, but he did. Large spaces of time were spent in the dark as time passed; he remembered an avox helping him undress, wash him, and clothe him. He remembered stumbling to his bed and someone pulling the covers over him before everything went fully dark and he passed out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Barclay was woken up suddenly, unsure of the cost. He was alone, but he felt as though he was being watched. He sat up slowly, taking attendance of all his body parts. He got out of bed and stretched, his body feeling creaky but all right.

"Jesus." He groaned, rubbing his head and face as he walked out of the room. He made his way to the dining table and sat down heavily.

"You look like shit." Lacee said, passing him coffee.

"Good morning to you as well."

"Did you throw up?"

He shook his head. "No, thank goodness."

"That is good. Means that you have a strong stomach."

Barclay said nothing, reaching over and grabbing a strange looking fruit. H bit into it and a sweet taste exploded in his mouth. He chewed quietly, looking around at the empty table.

"Since were alone, any advice?"

Lacee leaned forward. "You look capable. Knowledgeable with an axe and maybe knifes. Build off those skills in training, but do not show them to the others. Keep them reserved until the individual round."

He nodded and sipped at some coffee, contemplating her words. When Tierney entered, he stood up and left the room, going back to his bedroom. While humming, he climbed into the shower, unaware of the previous evening's bath. He felt better after spending close to thirty minutes in the steam. When he left the bathroom in a towel, he screamed in surprise.

"Good morning." Zahava sat on his bed, in surprisingly somber clothing. "I'm here to give you some reminders. Tierney is sweet, but I doubt that she would be able to win. Now you, on the other hand. You have the muscle, the skill, and the beauty to win." Her eyes scrapped over him slowly.

"Thank you. Now could you-?" he pointed to the door. Zahava obliged, blowing a kiss as she closed the door. Barclay breathed a sigh of relief and quickly dressed. He walked out of his room once again, making his way to the living area. About an hour passed before Tierney came out, followed by the other four.

Zahava clapped her hands. "Tonight is the official introduction of District 7. This is very important. The whole day will be spent with your designers, and then meet up an hour before the chariots are set to leave the underground."

They nodded and followed her down stairs once more. Tierney and Barclay separated with a kiss, no words being spoken. Barclay could already feel a canyon forming between them, each preparing to lose the other in the Games. He shook his head to clear the thoughts as he entered the stiff room, prepared for the next several hours of designing with his designer.

When Barclay exited the room, he felt brand new. He though he looked good the day before, but he knew he looked amazing now. His chest was bare, with his legs and waist being covered with simple brown tunic pants. He was barefooted and his face was covered with gentle makeup that accented the godly angles of his chin and cheeks. However, it was the crown of branches and leaves he wore. It rested on the back of his head, leaving his forehead open. Long, thin branches of aspen tree rose above his hair, contrasting elegantly with the darker color of his hair. Nestled within the branches were leaves the color of fall; gold, red, and orange lit his hair on fire. In short, he looked godly.

Tierney looked absolutely amazing as well. She had a matching crown and wore a thin dress that seemed woven out of fallen leaves. In short, she looked elegant and beautiful as well.

The two studied each other before smiling and joining hands in their chariot, waiting for the chariot march to begin. They studied the other tributes, paying notice to Districts 1, 2, 4, and 5. All of them looked bulked up and excited at a chance to be crowned Victor. The tributes from District 11 and 12 looked tired, thin, and scared. Barclay knew easily he could kill them, and then felt a pang in his heart at the thought. He knew he was being changed by the Games but chocked it down to survival.

The two jerked forward when the horses moved forward as the chariot march began. The cheering of the crowd grew stronger as the doors neared them. Suddenly, they were thrust into deafening noise and blinding light as the horses raced out and introduced the two tributes to the rest of Panem.

Tierney looked terrified, looking around. Barclay, on the other hand, became relaxed and waved at the crowd, which got him screams of adoration and even a couple of bras thrown at the chariot. This went on for some time, until the horses stopped in a semi-circle, waiting for President Dagmar Fain to speak.

Dagmar Fain was a Victor himself, from the Twenty First Hunger Games. He was only fifteen when he won, and became President 11 years later, rising through the ranks quickly. He had already been a Capitol favorite, and his win only helped him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Tributes from all of Panem." He spoke slowly, surely, knowing the power he held. "Welcome to the opening of the Fifty-Third Hunger Games. This year promises much excitement and much surprise. Myself and Head Gamemaker Ignatius Falk promise these Games to be ones to remember. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be every in your favor."

The crowd went wild as the chariots made another round. When they all aligned under the stadium, Zahava stood there proudly.

"Oh you two did so wonderful!" She jumpd up and down excitedly. Lacee clapped along with her, Alder nodded, and Cleves said nothing.

The six made their way back up to the penthouse and celebrated the success by drinking, except for Tierney, who stormed off to her room. Barclay took his crown off carefully and looked at Zahava.

"If I come back, I want this. Save it for me." She nodded proudly once more.  
"Of course."

Cleves intercepted. "I suggest you get sleep. Tomorrow begins five days of crucial and difficult training. Eat, drink, and go to bed." With that, he quickly hobbled out of the room.

Barclay made quick work of the food that was laid out on the table. By the time he was in bed, only an hour had passed. Even though he had gotten into bed early, he didn't fall asleep for another hour, his mind playing the evening over and over again. When he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of several deaths that he experienced in the arena. When he woke up the next morning, he was covered in sweat but still felt well rested. He sat on the end of his bed for a minute, quieting his mind to the fact that today began some of the most important, and possibly last, days of his life.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

The training area was large, encompassing the entire bottom level of the area. There were separate sections within the training area. Off to the left were five survival stations. One, for building fires. Two, for building practical shelters. Three, for building traps. Four, for building weapons. Five, for camouflage.

Off to the right were several sets of mats surrounded by racks of weapons. Barclay spotted racks of knives, swords, and even a couple of bows and arrows. Tierney grabbed his hand and he squeezed it to reassure her.

"Stay with me." He whispered to her, pulling her towards the Careers, who were gathering around one of the weapons racks that were father away. He puffed out his chest and drew himself to his full height. Suddenly, he was glad that he had worked with lumber, his muscles bulging and well defined.

"I'm Barclay." He introduced himself, grinning cockily. One of the male tributes stepped forward and clasped his hand.

"I'm Inis Tadeo, District 1. This is my partner, Tasmin Oakley."

Another pair stepped forward, this time led by the girl. She was thin and skinny, but her muscles were toned and tanned. "Britta Octavia. And this is Crest, my brother. District 4." The two looked almost identical, even though Britta was slightly taller.

One more pair stepped forward. "Harlow Valmiki, District 2" She shook Barclay's hand firmly. Her district partner stepped forward.

"Zach Abir." His eyes were fliting around, not staying on one place for too long.

Inis looked at Barclay and Tierney. "I think you'll do well in the pack. You're welcome to join. Our official and only invitation."

Barclay nodded and grinned. "We'd be honored. Thanks for extending the invitation."

Britta grabbed a knife off the rack and twirled it in her hands." I need to train more with these. How about you join me, Barclay?"

He shrugged and joined her side, studying the knifes. There were many different types, all differing by blades, handles, and even thickness. His hand ran over several long and skinny one before grabbing one with a bitch black blade. He turned to Britta.

"How do I throw this?"

She moved a little closer to him. "First, try to get a relaxed stance. I know that won't happen in the arena, but it is ideal for practice. Second, you can grip the blade or the handle." Barclay gripped the blade because he'd seen that one done before.

"Next, bring the blade back by your ear, parallel to your shoulder. That will be for close up throws. For long distance, bring it above your head, giving you leverage. Make sure when you throw, you stop your arm parallel to the ground. That will ensure that the knife doesn't get thrown to the ground. Give it a try."

Barclay nodded and got into a comfortable stance. Grasping the knife in his left hand, the took a deep breath and made sure to align his body in the way Britta instructed. He took his time but when he threw the knife, it landed surprisingly close to the human-like target. Britta nodded and patted him on the back.

"More practice and you'll be golden."

Barclay practiced for several more minutes, getting his tosses closer and closer to the target. He resolved that he would train this every day until the Games started.

While Barclay learned to toss knifes, Tierney went over to the shelter station. While she was okay with being a Career, she knew that they could turn on her really easily, and this made her warry. She wanted to prepare a little on her own, with the survival skills. Her body type was not suited for fighting and her hands were not yet calloused from labor. She resolved to stay more on the survival side, maybe going to pick up how to toss knifes like Barclay. However, she was having issues with leaning how to make any kind of shelter. Everyone she made collapsed after a couple of minutes, and the other tributes were starting to laugh and eye her like hungry meat.

Barclay walked over to her and examined the new stick structure she made. After his examination, he fiddled with some of the supports and covered it in more leaves and pine straw, he turned to her.

"You had the supports too far apart. When you're worried about not being seen by wild animals, it's okay to have it small. That'll keep you warm as well." He patted her back and walked back to the weapons, picking up a spear and throwing it. Like the knife, it landed pretty close to the target and Barclay knew that with more practice, he would be able to hit where he needed to.

Tierney felt downhearted by the show of strength and thought less and less of her ability to win. She knew that she might have to be super fake in order to stay alive, but that seemed to go against what principles she had. She was thankful for five days they had to train.

The rest of the day went on much like the beginning. Barclay practiced throwing things, increasing his aim more and more. Tierney went along with the survival path, leaning how to make the simplest traps and fish hooks. When the day was done, and they rode up to the elevator to their floor, they didn't speak. They were both exhausted, and could barley keep their eyes open.

When the elevator doors opened up, they stumbled out and to the dining room table, where their three mentors and Zahava sat at the table. They scarfed down the food at the table, barley swallowing before taking another bite. No one could get a word in, and the two tributes did not offer any.

Barclay finished first and stood up before walking away.

"Goodnight!" He called over his shoulder. Making his way to his room, he locked the door and walked to the bathroom. He stripped and climbed into the shower, washing away all the soreness and sweat from the day's activities. He stayed in longer than he should have but the water felt so good, and he had a lot on his mind. Finally, he climbed out and wrapped himself in a towel, brushing his teeth and running his hands through his unruly hair.

He climbed into bed, nestling into the sheets that were slightly warm. He slept, but not easily. His dreams were filled with images of the past Hunger Games, of tributes who had died gruesome deaths, and of Victors who came out on top.


End file.
